A/n: Notes at bottom of page to avoid spoilers.

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Chapter: 5

He slept soundly that night, the first time in many decades passed, barely stirring even as a thunderous storm raged fiercely outside the little cottage. Turbulent winds accompanied the menacing roars of thunder, and it was like the heavens above threatened to drown the forest in a relentless flood.

The little cottage however, in the middle of the clearing with its lit interior, stood strong and unwavering even in the face of such weather, like a tiny beacon of light, refusing to be swallowed by the coming of darkness. The rain was unrelenting, but before long, even the skies could pour no longer, and the rain was no more.

The two of them slept through it all.

When he woke the next morning, he noticed she was already up, standing across from him, staring out of the window with her back towards him. She was staring at something beyond his view, and when she turned towards him, he noticed a hint of visible distress upon her features.

"Good morning, James," she smiled.

"Morning," he replied. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Did we miss a pudding tree?" he motioned towards the window. "You seem unhappy with something outside."

"Oh, it's really nothing," she shook her head. "There was a huge thunderstorm last night, and it damaged the tool-hut."

He got up from the couch to take a closer look, heading over to the window and wiping away its condensation. The outside area was slightly flooded, but between the hanging morning dew and the radiant greenery, the night's carnage did little to diminish the surrounding's beauty. He saw the hut instantly, it was a short walking distance from the cottage, and half of the building was collapsed inwards, the wood twisted and broken by the before weather.

An idea nudged at the back of his mind, and for the first time since his arrival, he finally felt like there was something he could offer. "Let me help," he said confidently, "I can fix this."

She looked at him confusedly, before ushering him in the direction of the kitchen, "Breakfast first, breakfast is more important."

She made him some of the weird colored eggs again, along with a blue colored drink that tasted exactly like lemonade. She on the other hand, opted for a slice of yesterday's pudding.

They dug into their meal, and when she noticed the way he was staring at her food, she asked, "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head, "I'm just not used to seeing someone eat pudding in the morning."

She asked, "James, do you know what sort of people eat pudding in the morning?"

He shook his head again.

"People who love pudding," she said with a dreamy smile.

When they were done with breakfast, they headed out of the cottage, following the short trek towards the fallen hut. The damage was more apparent up close, though from his judgement, still quite salvageable. The building's foundation was still standing, all he had to do was to replace the broken wood. The first few hours were spent salvaging the still useable tools and wood, before clearing away all the torn wood and debris.

Then, Luna stepped aside as he picked up one of her father's saw (her father always preferred using his hands and not magic) and headed towards the clearing's edge. She watched curiously as he chopped into the colossal trees, his face intense with concentration. When finally satisfied with the collected wood, he lifted them onto his prosthetic arm, the amount clearly a lot heavier than the average human could carry.

While he started on the wood, she excused herself back to the cottage and returned shortly after with a jug of the blue lemonade, her oversized sunhat flapping softly in the afternoon's breeze. He was still chopping away at the downed wood, and the process was taking a lot longer than expected as they did not have all the proper tools. But he didn't seem to mind, and so, she patiently waited, using one of the fallen pieces as a makeshift stool.

Luna was sipping on her cool drink while watching him work, and for the longest time, she couldn't understand why exactly he, like her father, preferred exerting physical strength over magic; the hut could have been fixed hours before if they just casted a simple fixing spell.

However, when the sun caught his arms in a different angle, and his muscles glistened and flexed with each swing of the axe, she arrived at a sudden realization, along with a blush, of why most of her male wizard friends were a lot paler and skinnier compared to someone like him.

A few hours later, they were done, and she noticed the displeased way he was staring at the newly fixed hut. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"It feels a little bit… off, I didn't install the center beam straight enough."

"What happens if it's not straight?" she asked.

"Then the foundation might not hold," he sighed, "I might need to redo the entire thing."

"Why don't you have a drink first?" she pointed towards the jug of blue lemonade, "I'm sure you'll feel better afterwards, and we can think of a solution then."

When he headed away for a drink, Luna peeked over her shoulders and made sure he wasn't looking before slipping her wand out from her dress. She pointed it towards the slanted beam and muttered softly beneath her breath.

When he returned, the beam was completely straight. His eyebrows cocked in confusion.

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It was dark again when they returned to the cottage, and Bucky quickly realized – he was staying another night.

She seemed to have noticed too, and was waiting with a huge grin when he exited the shower.

"Staying another night, Mr Barnes?" she asked playfully. Before he could reply, she interrupted, "No apologizing this time!"

He sighed in defeat, but then she noticed it, for the first time, the briefest tug at the edge of his lips, as though the unconscious beginning of a smile.

It was an endearing sight.

They huddled near the fire afterwards and he asked, "Have you always lived alone?"

"Not always," she replied, "I used to live with my father."

"I assumed from the tools," he said, "where is he now?"

"I don't know," she said, and he noticed her head visibly dipping. "He told me he was going for supplies one day… and I've not heard from him since then. It's been a few years, and I'm still waiting."

"I… I'm sorry."

"What for?" she asked, "he's still coming back, I know he is."

They were quiet for the longest time.

"What about you?" she asked afterwards. "Where are your parents?"

"They're both gone."

"Gone where?" she asked innocently.

"Gone as in… deceased," he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-…"

"It's fine, it's been a long while," he said, "I lost them a long time ago, when I was still a child."

"That must be tough," she said, "I can't imagine growing up with parents."

"It was, but I had my friends," he said softly, "and I had a purpose."

"Had?" she asked.

He paused, not quite sure how to tell her that most of his friends from the previous century were already long dead, from either the war or of old age, and that his original purpose, long twisted and corrupted by years of HYDRA's conditioning, was something he could no longer remember.

He nodded instead, and it was more than enough, "Had."

There was something painfully solemn in his voice, and Luna couldn't help but to feel the same sense of sorrow welling up inside her chest.

She shifted in her seat, and suddenly, her hands were sliding past his shoulders, reaching behind him and gingerly pulling him into a hug.

He blinked, confused at the sudden action, but he did not push her away, and so, she squeezed him just a little harder.

Then, they separated, and it was gone, and all that remained, was a whiff of blueberries and mint.

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To Be Continued...

A/n: Chapter was a little shorter, but more development, especially on Luna's part. This is the last chapter where "there's something happening and Bucky stays another night."

As for the chapter, I wanted to show that Bucky's not the only one with issues.

As the optimistic one, Luna thinks that her father's still alive, while Bucky will think he's already dead.